Treasure-picking, or Sarah Louise cleans her apartment

I love posting pictures, because I like pictures and I consider myself the amateur of amateur photographers. This is a shot of tulips my dad sent me for Valentine's Day this year--they were forced bulbs so I had to wait many weeks for them to get to this state. I like this picture because you can't see any other part of my apartment--it has that Martha Stewart spare-ness look, the white cabinets with a *hint* of color. The rag rug is from Ikea. By the way, what you see there is the extent of the cabinet space in my apartment--since it's a garret type, there's no wall space to have upper cabinets, ah, the bane of my existence, storage space. But I love my garret--I've lived here for 7 years, a long time even for me.

The cleaning....ah, well, after I came home from seeing Elizabethtown (more on that later), I coaxed myself into cleaning for 5 minutes at a time. So I now can see parts of the floor in my back room, and I have found things missing for years. I am getting rid of magazines and catalogs, and I am doing laundry and dishes. It's a start. Oh, and I found the actual parking ticket, though it will probably behoove me to pay it online b/c online today it is $17.95 and it goes up to $38.00 if I don't pay it by the 17th (Monday). Darn street cleaning!! I knew I should have driven to Tazza D'Oro that day...so I saved gas but I'm stuck with a parking ticket...

Other found things: (to refrain from the moaning)
40 Acres by Caedmon's Call (a wonderful CD that my friend Rose gave me when she moved to one of the Carolinas)
Lots of magazines on how to get organized
Yoga for the hormonally distressed (A magazine article I thought I'd lost--it's been MIA for at least a year)
My electric heating pad

So, it's been a good day, a good start. Tomorrow is training in the morning and my first Mother/Daughter reading group meeting in the afternoon. We'll be discussing The Doll People by Ann Martin. That's all I'll say--I don't want this to be a blog about work.

I'll get to Elizabethtown in my next post...a definate one to watch. (And I could tell it would be because Gene Shallot hated it.)

"What if they hate me?"
"They're critics--they hate themselves."
(Reese Witherspoon and Patrick Demsey in Sweet Home Alabama)